


Liminal Space

by Demmora



Series: Hunger Pangs AU [1]
Category: Hunger Pangs - Fandom, Joy Demorra
Genre: Drug use mention, M/M, Multi, Pining, ah well it's good writing practice, blame SSal, coffins, death mention, did you guys know Walmart sells coffins?, meta of meta, oops i did it again, what a time to be alive, wrote AU fic of the book I haven't even finished writing yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 03:23:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10208414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demmora/pseuds/Demmora
Summary: For Ssal who sent the prompt: Vlad learns about Walmart coffins, and wherein I go on a procrastination spree writing meta of my meta. Good times.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ssalogel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssalogel/gifts).



Vlad is open enough to admit, _he’s done some shit in his time_. You didn’t grow up in the Blutstein household without finding coping mechanisms—most of them incredibly unhealthy. He’s gotten blind drunk more times than he can remember, he’s smoked himself near into a coma, dropped acid and felt the cosmos pouring in through the back of his skull and forgotten his own name on mushrooms. 

But none of it compares the the surreal reality of being in a Walmart at 3am. 

“Why,” he asks, trailing along behind his roommate at a dragging pace, “Why are we here?”

“Because,” Nathan replies, somehow still bright and cheery—always so bright and cheery—”We need milk.”

“Okay,” Vlad says, noting as Nathan drops several other items into the cart which are definitely not just milk, “I’ll rephrase, why am _I_  here?”

He nearly falls over when Nathan reaches out behind him to cuff him on the shoulder, dragging him forward and pressing him close to his side as though he weighs nothing at all. 

“Because,” the much broader man says, fixing him with a smile that makes him think very bad, not good things of an inappropriate nature, “You were awake and wanted to keep me company.”

“How considerate of me,” Vlad mutters, relieving Nathan of the cart for something to do, and pushing it along beside him. He feels better when he has something to do with his hands. There’s less chance of him reaching out to touch the other man and start climbing him like a tree.

_Cold thoughts,_  he tells himself, _cold thoughts, deep snow, cold showers, don’t watch his t-shirt ride up when he reaches for the top shelf..._ he swallows quickly and looks away, throwing a bag of Dove chocolate bars into the cart. Might as well, while he’s here.

“Do you need anything here?” Nathan asks, lugging down two dozen packs of bottled water as though they weigh nothing and dropping them into the cart. The thing nearly flips and Vlad has to dig his heels in to keep it from jettisoning him over the top.

“Like what?”

“I dunno,” the other man shrugs, and Vlad has a minor crisis involving shoulders, “art stuff? Eye liner?”

Vlad gives him a look. “From Walmart?”

“All right fine, we’ll go to Hot Topic tomorrow.”

Vlad laughs, shaking his head. “Fuck off.”

“What? I’m being a considerate roommate. You’re here to make sure I don’t get sucked into the ethereal world that exists only in Walmart at 3am, and I’ll hold your art shit tomorrow while you pick out skinny jeans and a new Slytherin tie.”

Vlad cocks his head to the side. “Slytherin? Really?”

Nathan shrugs again. “Well they don’t do Ravenclaw last time I checked.”

“So you _have_  been in Hot Topic.” Vlad counters, falling in to the easy sniping humor they’ve developed over the last few weeks. It had taken him a while to get used to it, and to realize that Nathan made more fun of himself than he did anyone else. It was...nice...

“You’re back to being a Slytherin again.”

“All right, Mister Gryffindor.” 

“Excuse you,” Nathan says, sounding indignant, “Hufflepuff for life, thank you very much.” Then mutters under his breath, “ _No matter what the new Pottermore site says..._ ”

Vlad shakes his head and carries on pushing the cart, now half dragged by Nathan as he guides it to where he wants to go. Which seems to be everywhere around the store. Which is fine with Vlad because by the time they’re halfway down the sporting goods aisle—apparently Nathan does jump rope and needed a new football and various other things Vlad doesn’t know the name of—Vlad has jumped up onto the wheel guards, slumped over the back of the cart letting Nathan drag him along. 

It really is such a weird place. And what’s even weirder they’re not the only ones in here. He’s pretty certain there’s a family with kids, either that or the toy section is haunted. There’s also a woman filling her cart with all the cheese, just all of it...and a guy who looks dead inside sucking down coffee from a styrofoam cup as he stares blankly at the giant 52 inch television, his image broadcasted multiple times over on the various different screens...

“Liminal space,” Vlad mutters, “all the weirdos come to congregate.”

“Well you’ll fit right in,” Nathan says, and Vlad has just a split second to realize what’s about to happen before Nathan’s hand comes down on his head, patting him in what is meant to be a jokingly consoling manner but Vlad is so very suddenly wired awake and jittery as hell at the feel of those rough fingers in his hair, dragging over his scalp. He’s distracted immediately however by the sight of the thing looming up in front of him.

“Is that a fucking _coffin?!_ ”

“Sure,” Nathan shrugs.

“ _A COFFIN?_ ”

“Yes,” Nathan says, as though he’s the one being unreasonable.

“ _In the home and gardening section?”_

“Well where else are they going to put it? Can’t put it in the deli aisle, that’d just be weird.”

“Wha-I mean it’s a _coffin_.”

“You seem to be having some issue with this,” Nathan said evenly, “What, don’t they have coffins in Tescos or Asda or whatever fuck stores you have over there?”

Vlad blinks at him incredulously, “ _No_.”

“Well, they do here.”

“But it’s a _coffin._ How is...I mean...what, do you pop in on a Sunday for some eggs and milk and decide, I know, I’ll buy a _coffin.”_

_“_ Funerals are expensive,” Nathan shrugged, pulling the tag up to look at the price, and Vlad feels slightly queasy at the idea of death having a marked down tag. “If you can save money on a casket, why not? Now me personally, I think I’d rather be cremated, or one of those bio tree thingies, that’d be cool. What about you?”

“We have a family tomb,” Vlad says, still feeling somewhat sick and trying not to linger on the memory of the last time he’d been in there. _Her marble face had been so cold..._  “Back home. My father has it written in if anything happens to us we get sent back there...”

“That’s nice.”

“Is it,” Vlad shudders, looking away from the coffin, “Is it really? I mean I don’t know what your beliefs are but I was raised Catholic and the thought of being resurrected next to those assholes is...” He shudders again.

“Tell you what,” Nathan says, patting him on the back, “If you kick the bucket I’ll dig a hole in the yard and plant rosebushes, no one will ever know, and then you can come back and haunt me on the weekends, seem fair?”

It’s such a ridiculous sentence Vlad can’t help but laugh. “Just on weekends, what am I doing the rest of the time?”

“I dunno, haunting the art gallery or something, rattling all the modern art about. You’ll be dead, you decide.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. He supposes there is some sense to it, and Nathan is right. Funerals are expensive, and caskets ridiculously so, and some people put a lot of store by having a good death...

“Make it sunflowers, I like the way they move in the light.”

“Sunflowers it is.” Nathan agrees, coming up behind Vlad and caging him in as he braces both arms on either side of him and begins pushing the cart, all thoughts of death and coffins replaced by the very real warmth behind him. “Come on, we should get you home before the day star comes up and turns you to ash.”

“Ha ha.” Vlad deadpans, going back into his languid slump. If there had been any room left in the cart he’d have climbed into the damn thing. Maybe next time.

They’re halfway back to the apartment when they realized neither of them had picked up the milk.


End file.
